


A Halloween on the Holodeck

by Kimra



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Celebrations, Conversations, Costumes, Crew as Family, Devils, Friendship, Halloween, Hanging Out, Party, Selkies, ToT: Monster Mash, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-15 10:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21251657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimra/pseuds/Kimra
Summary: Data throws an authentic Halloween party.





	A Halloween on the Holodeck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoulJelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulJelly/gifts).

Data stands at the door to the holodeck chambers dressed as a stereotypically vampire he smiles politely at the passing crew and waits for his guests. Picard arrives first, a quick trot to his step, looking well put together in his sturdy suit and big white beard.

“Good evening, Captain, and who are you today?” Data greats politely and Picard holds up his dirty paintbrush and palette as if to pose. Data goes this his memory banks for an artist that matches the description before him, but unfortunately there are many artists and they are not very varied in their visual depictions. Data hesitates to explain that he cannot piece together the clues yet as he is not sure of the social etiquette of the situation but the captain circumvents the issue.

“Claude Monet, one of the founders of the impressionist era.”

Data draws up the image in his records and it is a striking enough resemblance although Monet had more hair on this head than the Captain currently does. “An excellent representation.” Data compliments, then opens the holodeck doors, “If you would step right in.”

“You’re waiting to great everyone individually, are you?” Picard asks cheerfully.

“As the host it is appropriate.” Data explains. He’s not sure why he explains common courtesy to the humans whose customs they are, but has found more often than not he must do so. It’s either they do not know the courtesy themselves, of they do not think he should know them. Either way it doesn’t hurt to explain. “But please step through and enjoy the festivities I have prepared while the rest arrive.”

“Is there anyone else inside yet?”

“Not yet, Captain. But I expect them all to arrive soon. If you would be so kind?” Data opens the door.

“If you insist.” The captain tugs his jacket down, which is awkward around the palette and steps through the doors.

“Do head straight on in.” Data says, and closes the door behind him.

The entire holodeck has been transformed into a gothic nightmare, and Picard admired the effect as if he were really there. There’s mist, a full moon, the croak of frogs in a marsh, and a towering mansion. Picard looks back at the archway but it has gone, so he picks up one of the lanterns waiting on stakes by his side and sets out down the path towards the mansion.

A snake slithers out of the dense forest around him and across his path then continues into the underbrush on the other side. The level of detail in the programing is fantastic, and Picard would ask if this was a pre-existing holoprogram but knowing Data he programed it in himself. He continues on his way but does not encounter any other wildlife.

Deanna and Riker entre the mansion together and Deanna is glad to be done with the outside fog. It’s damp and the ground had dragged dirt onto her mermaid tail. It was all holograph, but she still had to attend the party with the dirt on her. She had plans to check for a bathroom and brush it down as soon as possible. The scales were blue and gold crystal and she was proud of how they’d come together.

“You look fabulous.” Riker tells her, and she likes the praise quite a lot, almost as much as she likes the feeling coming off it. So she lets her concerns go and looks about the massive entryway they’ve walked into.

There’s a small crowd already and Picard is standing not too far away at a little canapé table. There are nibbles, and punch bowls and little cookies shapes like bats and ghosts. It feels a lot more like high school prom than spooky Halloween mansion. She’s not sure why Data went for the plastic table clothes when he had his unlimited imagination to work with.

“This is delightful.” She smiles and picks up a mini quiche. “I wonder how long it took to program.”

“The foods a bit lacking on presentation.” Riker says, so she elbows him in warning. Really.

“Lacking, perhaps, but it is delicious.” Picard holds up a little plastic goblet of punch out to Deanna and she takes it happily. The drink is actually fantastic, fruity but not overly sweet.

“This is fantastic.” She hums but her eyes have wandered up the stairwell. “Do you think we can explore?” She’s fascinated by the building, by what Data has designed and would love to see more, “Or should we wait for our host?” She knows the answer straight away, but Riker hops up two stairs and makes a little gesture for her hand, it’s charming and endearing especially in his short white nurses dress but despite her fancy she’s not going to trap ease through Data’s holoprogram without asking first. “Will.” She admonishes very lightly and he just grins roguishly and hops back down.

“We could find out if there’s an empty room.” He murmurs closer to her.

Picard politely pretends not to hear him, but she feels the spike of his amusement as he wonders back over to the food table.

“Ah ha!” Comes a shout from the door, and Geordi knocks the doors open with a flourish, rapier out and swinging, “I come in the name of the king!” He cries out, and does a little light foot work to get him into the middle of the room. He eyes his audience, sheaths his sword and approaches the officers. He picks up Deanna’s hand and gives it a quick kiss. “My lady you are resplendent this foul evening.”

Deanna smiles, “Geordi you look dashing, who are you?” He puffs up and stands at full height so she can see the entirety of his costume. He’s got brown pants and a top, riding books, a sword, and a blue tunic with a large silver cross over the ensemble.

“Ah!” Picard crows, “I’d recognise a musketeer anywhere.”

“Let me guess,” Riker says from behind her, “Porthos?”

“Please Will,” Deanna chides, “Geordi’s more an d'Artagnan, full of young aspiring love, aren’t you?”

And Geordi grins at her pleased before he set about speaking with the other crew members.

Worf stomps through the marsh, growls at an owl that startles him when it swoops out of the dark and does a double take when he comes across another Klingon on the road. She’s short and dressed like a Tak-Nava a great fictional hero from one of their operas but he does not recognise her.

“Why are you here?” He demands, reaching for a weapon he does not have, and she freezes, spots him and then grins brightly. It is a confusing image, until he realises he recognises her, not with the forehead bumps and armour, but her smile.

“Dr Crusher?” He braces for an attack all the same, better to be safe, but she just puts her hands on her hips and mock glares at him. It is disconcerting, to say the least.

“What’s the matter Worf? Never seen a Klingon warrior before?” It’s her same no-nonsense voice, and Worf is slightly horrified by how much it suits her, the look and the tone.

“I did not think you would be so… invested in your costume.” He admits, but he walks right up to her and she laughs.

“Does it look weird?” She touches at the ridges on her head and Worf shakes his head.

“It was surprising at first, but they suit you well.” He tells her honestly.

She nudges him lightly with her shoulder, “I’m glad. They take hours to do. Shall we continue?” She gestures down the path, and Worf agrees, the atmosphere is… unpleasant.

“I see you went with the undead.” Crusher comments. Worf’s face is itchy where the fake blood has started to dry but he does not say anything about that.

“I was told it was a traditional earth costume.” He is proud of his costume, it took hours to prefect and several crew members saw him heading to the holodeck and had pales. Perhaps on this ship that was more a reflection of day to day life, but the effect was clearly striking. “Why have you chosen Tak-Nava?”

“It was one of my favourite stories when I was studying, how many chances do I have to dress up as an idol?”

“She’s a fictional character.” He explains plainly and Crusher just gives him a dry look and continues on.

The crowd is milling about the main entry hall when there’s a crash of thunder and the lights go out. Someone to the right of Troi gives a squeak of surprise and a few people walk into each other or hit one another by accident. She remains still and waits for it to be over, but the darkness stretches long enough for people to start discussing how long it’s been going on.

“Where’s Data?” She asks the room at large. Her eyes are adjusting to the lowered light, the flickering of lighting through large stained-glass windows, and the few candles guttering in chandeliers around the hall.

“Right here counsellor.” Is said directly into her ear and Troi jumps and spins, hand clutching at her heart in surprise.

“Data,” She scolds, “you startled me.”

“Apologies,” he says around vampire dentures, “but if you would all like to gather close I will explain the entertainment for the evening.” The crew shuffle closer to where Data stands on the third step up of the grand staircase. “On this auspicious night 25 years ago there was a murder,” lightning flashes and somewhere in the house there’s a howl.

“This is fantastic.” Geordi admires quietly.

Data continues, “Mrs Annabeth Leroy was murdered in this very room,” he waves towards a set of locked pocket doors off the entry way, “but she was not a normal woman.” He warns, “Mrs Annabeth Leroy was a prolific adopter.”

“That’s not very frightening.” Riker mutters and Worf glares at him for the interruption.

“But not just any adoptee, because you see, her children were all monsters. And that is why on this night, once a year, her children rise up and do-“ lightning struck nearby, the candles flickered again, “-the Mash.”

Beverly snorts her drink by accident.

“The Mash?” Worf repeats confused.

“The Monster Mash.” Data repeats with solemn sincerity. Then he smiles, plastic teeth and all, and the room fills with monsters of every shape and kind, as the music starts to play.

There’s a riot of movement, monsters shuffling people around and into line until all the crew are caught in a giant grid of dancers and the synchronised dancing begins.

Data views his work with pride as Beverly and Troi do a passable job of copying the zombie and devils on their side, and Worf looks panicked but stern. Geordi manages to find a selkie to stand next him, while Picard and Riker failed miserably at the dance but did it anyway. The rest of the crew blends into the dance, equally confused and amused but no-one refuses to try. 

Troi catches Data later that night, after several dances, and offers him a drink.

“I know you don’t have to, but it really is quite nice.” She tells him with a smile.

He takes it with a thanks as another classic hit starts up. The monsters continue to mingle and dance, occasionally jumping at crew members, or growing, or howling as the case may be. They’ve been programed with little quests, and he’s seen a few crew members take off with a zombie into the marsh, and about six went with the devil to explore the upper floors. Beverly had made a beeline to join that group when she’d heard there was a treasure hunt.

Data is pleased. Overall. Pleased with the way the night turned out, pleased with the way the crowd seems happy. 

“They’re happy, you know.” Deanna tells him, and he is glad to hear it. “They were confused at first, but they warmed up to it when the music started.” She holds her glass up in a salute. “To a wonderful Halloween with good friends.” She toasts. “Where did you get the idea?”

“I was researching old customs that have gone out of fashion and this seemed like one that many people enjoyed, in the Northern American continent in particular.” He explained. “At first I had intended to manufacture a holodeck failure to induce a fear response in the crew. But after some further research this seemed more what was expected for this kind of party.”

Deanna Troi has a minor heart attack and recovers, then thanks everything she knows that Data put the further research in. She doesn’t think anyone would have liked the other party.

“Are you going to dance?” She asks him instead, and when he looks surprised she loops her tail over her arm and drags him to the dance floor as a fast song starts and several of the monsters move into line again. Of course Data knows all the steps, but it’s fun anyway.


End file.
